#12exe

[urusten]

Doodles everyone 🙄

[daydream-corpse]

[dwinkdweetums]

“Oh, I’ve always been like this.”

“WRONG!”

[flamestar126]

A small treat for you! @daydream-corpse

plus bonus :]

i fell in love with the concept. I couldn't stop drawing exe/12 for over a week lol

My take was Exe had died after working as 12's boss for so many years and when he had tragically died, 12 couldn't cope and dug up his grave and tried to revive him but brought him back as a corpse instead. He had to borrow some different parts from another body :D

[apparentlyhuman]

Shame

[n0rcor]

,,Happy Valentine's.. for some..''

⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓♡⛓

-sorry for offering just a crappy doodle, but I haven't been too well lately..👽🔫

[gensin12]

I’m drawing a 12exe comic!

I'm behind schedule, so I'll do my best from now on :)

[sushilabs]

can’t sleep

writing under here! tw: egotrip, ego trip, check the tags etc. mentions of past abusive relationship, light touching, terror

It's in the quiet witching hour that Exe fetches him. He's tossed from his scratchy cot to the chair, barely avoiding having his fingers caught up in the metal bindings of the arm rests as he zooms with alarming speed to his destination. It dumps him, rather unceremoniously, at the foot of Exe's bed. One that he's become intimately familiar with in the past couple of weeks, but it still feels foreign nonetheless as Exe snaps at him to get in already.

He's not sure whether to feel relief or nervousness when he crawls under the covers. A fully clothed Exe wraps a fuzzy arm around him and draws him to his chest with a rough pull - but its forcefulness is softened by the silk sheets, by a high stack of fluffy pillows, by the warmth emanating from this terrifying touch.

12 suppresses a whimper as Exe presses his nose into his scalp, inhaling deeply. 12's face gets squished against his chest. His arm wraps around him, pads of fingers digging against the fabric of his thin cotton-T (his lab coat having been stripped away by the robots). He shivers. Then braces himself for punishment - shoulders tense, arms bound to his sides like a straitjacket. 

The soft sleeve is like a cloud enveloping him. A memory stirs in the back of his mind. Cashmere? Velvet? It's not...warm, exactly, but their mingling body heat soon makes up for that, filling up the little pocket of air in very small space between them.